“Who or what are you?” Amelia blurted out, her voice a mix of surprise and frustration. The world around her had become increasingly complex, and she was growing tired of the constant barrage of mysteries. “Must I interrogate everything?” she muttered to herself, raising her locket toward the fading evening sun. The light danced on its surface, casting a warm glow over her fingers. She wondered, not for the first time, if this small trinket held the answers she desperately needed. Frustration welled up inside her as she shook it slightly, hoping to shake loose a revelation.

“There are quite a few of us here, really. But let’s not be coy. I’m Cameron. I’m your brother’s -The King- Keeper,” came a voice, soft yet firm, from the locket. “We’re at the Primarian Royale known to you as Quadrant Zero.”

“I got his letter! And where’s my brother? Where’s is he?” Amelia demanded, her voice edged with confusion and growing worry.

“Understood. And not to worry. He’s here. Most of him...” Cameron replied, but the way the words trailed off made Amelia’s stomach twist with unease.

“Most of him?” Amelia echoed, her voice sharpening with curiosity and anxiety. She could feel her heart beginning to race.

“Yes. However, on my honor, he’s still alive and will continue to be should you listen,” Cameron’s gentle yet stern voice became muffled, as though struggling against a strange, ethereal interference.”

Before Amelia could process what was happening, the locket began to levitate, tugging at the chain still fastened around her neck. It spun in place, faster and faster, until it hovered just above her hand. A brilliant blue light erupted from it, bathing the room in an otherworldly glow. This was different—before, the locket had only glimmered faintly in the presence of unseen danger or its potential. She had always felt a subtle, uneasy sensation whenever it was near, but this was something else entirely. The light felt calm, almost reassuring, yet she couldn’t shake the fear that the necklace might strangle her in its spinning frenzy if the pivoting piece at its top broke or jammed.

“This isn’t the time for idle chatter!” Another voice broke through, rougher, deeper, and far more urgent. “Let me get in... l-et me...” The voices clashed before the rougher one took control. “Er—Hear me, Crowny! I’m Ehmir, a member of the Primarian Hammer. I’ve got Cameron of the Primarian Arc here, your fool of a brother Bolton, and the mud puddle of a King in a sewer under the Primarian Royale.”

“Put ’em—whatever this is! P-put ’em on the crystal!” Amelia shouted, gnawing at her fingers in a mix of confusion and desperation.

“Er…” Ehmir grumbled, “It’s not that easy, missy.”

“Pass the crystal, no?” Amelia suggested, her frustration intensifying.

“Listen, Dolly. Do you know how to grab a floating crystal? Better yet, do you know how to ring someone with a bloody rock? No? Well, Dolly, you see the predicament. We’re all playing baseball with two sticks and no ball.”

Amelia sighed, understanding Ehmir’s tone but growing more anxious by the second, especially since she hadn’t heard anything concrete about her brothers. She glanced back at the walls of the Pappy Long Legs, hoping Rick might be listening in, just in case she was imagining this entire bizarre situation.

“Next lesson, Crowny. I knew your brother Bolton would find a foolish way to get here, and so did the King. I just didn’t expect him to show up wedged between a giant lizard and an attached caveman to boot.”

“Caveman?” shouted another voice from the distance, causing Amelia to blink in confusion. “Like, ancient? Because that’s kind of right.”

“Never mind that. In a world of giants, monsters, and spirits, let’s just toss in a caveman for good measure!” Amelia said sarcastically.

“Good idea! Let’s—” Ehmir started to say.

“No, Ehmir! Help me bring some sense into this. Spit some truth,” Amelia interrupted, forcing herself to stay calm. The situation was spiraling out of control, but she needed to keep her wits about her.

“Soul Rot. ’Fraid it’s got the King. He’s really not himself. As you know, it manifests differently in everyone,” replied Cameron softly. “As for the caveman, we’re working on that.”

“Are my brothers okay?” Amelia’s hand instinctively reached toward the locket, as if by some miracle she could touch the King and offer comfort.

“I don’t know, nor am I allowed to say. Please, Amelia, as hard as a nut Ehmir can be, he speaks truth and he cares. You’ll find that to be a rare quality. Please, just listen,” Cameron’s voice pleaded. There was a weight in his words that made Amelia’s heartache.

“Listen here, Dolly, before the rot began to eat away at your brother’s thick noggin, he instructed me and the other Hammers to relay some crucial information. I’m specifically supposed to tell ya that the gem around you and your brother was to be crushed. The blue part, that is. He knew full well that Yerro would overhear and leak information like a hive mind—or however it does its spreading. We can only assume Yerro hears everything, if not in person,” Ehmir explained.

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“What, do I have to go looking for each Primarian Hammer to know if my brothers are okay?” Amelia asked, her sarcasm masking her rising panic.

“Focus, girly. Now hear me, yah?” Ehmir proposed.

“Yah,” Amelia agreed reluctantly.

“Inside the gem is a fleshy sphere. Keep that close and don’t crush that thing. Only the shell. That shinin’ blue shell of that gem gives out some sort of soundwave—”

“Frequency,” Cameron interjected from just behind Ehmir.

“Yes, frequency, that some dangerous blowhorns can track. Every New Dwardian and all of their unborn children know not to mess with a Quadrant Leader and I’m sure much more. But it seems fate has decided to play a new game with the Woltwork family at its center. As far as we know, Yerro is now the enemy -at least at the moment-, and so are all thirteen Quadrant Leaders,” Ehmir continued.

“Enemies?” Amelia muttered, her thoughts swirling in a mix of disbelief and horror. What had she gotten herself into? “And the Quadrant Leaders are the enemy too? Why?”

“Don’t tug a lion’s tail, Dolly. Information is the killer of loose lips. Now listen, Amelia. Your brother yapped about containin’ one’s soul inside of one’s heart, and how that rule doesn’t come out of any storybook,” Ehmir pressed on.

“It’s a natural law that applies to Yerro as well,” Cameron interjected gently. “However, we fear it applies to you. When you crack that gem of yours, please think about that when holding onto the—”

“We call it the fleshy circle,” Ehmir interjected.

“Terrible name, really. But yes, the fleshy circle,” Cameron agreed reluctantly.

“Yerro is—” Amelia began, but Cameron cut her off.

“Stop. Best not to say anything more unless you want to incur the wrath of what appears to be the entire city. Again, unfortunately, this conversation can be heard on more channels than just our ears,” Cameron warned.

“Oi, Amelia, I saved yer’ brother! Now, pay me!” Another gruff voice suddenly blurted out, causing Amelia to flinch. “Don’t think he can no’ more. Least for a while.”

“Off with you! Get away from the crystal, will you! Our problem is far larger than any paycheck you’ll ever receive!” Cameron snapped back, her frustration evident.

“More pay, you say?” the gruff voice responded sheepishly. “Well, I’m as sorry as the underside of a dog’s tail.”

“Oh, you’re sorry, are you? Since you’re sorry, what was it—Occilo? Occilo the caveman? I suppose the Primarian Guard won’t kill us then,” Cameron added, her tone dripping with sarcasm as it echoed further away and close again. “’Fraid you’re in this predicament too. Pulled right in,” Cameron mocked, her voice now becoming clearer.

“My brothers. Are they alive?” Amelia asked again, desperation creeping into her voice, ignoring the banter unfolding before her.

“Bolton’s stuck visiting the underside of his eyelids,” Occilo added.

“Occilo!?” Cameron yelled. “Will you please!?”

“The sewer caveman’s right. Young lad’s been roughed up by a Quadrant Leader, but he’s alive and should heal just fine in the coming days. I know Pistol’s going to see to that,” Ehmir commented. “Dolly, our fine King, on the other hand... you’ll hear of him when you arrive in Veranus. I received a directive statin’ ‘divulge information to the former Primarian Hammer named Pistol. He works on a Midnight Train dubbed—” Ehmir continued. “Well, can’t tell ya the rest. You’ll meet him either way.”

Amelia leaned closer to the crystal, almost as if she could hear Ehmir grinding his teeth at Occilo’s comments. “Anyway, sorry to cut our yappin’ reunion short, Amelia!” Ehmir’s voice suddenly boomed, overpowering Cameron’s. “Are you with Rick now?”

“Yes. Y-you can’t see me? Right?” Amelia wondered aloud, glancing around as if the shadows themselves could be spying on her.

“No, this isn’t science fiction. Just tell the ol’ bread baker that we are delayed in our exit but will meet at Veranus all the same! He’ll know where—least he should,” Ehmir instructed.

“I will!” Amelia nodded, her focus narrowing in on the conversation. “Anything else? What do I do?”

“Take in the bloody sights! As for the King, his soul’s in a scruff with the city of New Dwarden itself. He’s fightin’ for all of us! Fists up and gob closed,” Ehmir’s voice was urgent, pressing her to understand the gravity of the situation.

“His soul?” Amelia whispered, the word feeling heavy on her tongue.

“I’ll write a book on it later,” Ehmir’s voice began to fade, leaving Amelia with more questions than answers. “He—”

“He what?” Amelia blurted out, fear tightening around her heart. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her emotions in check. “Watch out for a creature with a dog head! He tried to eat me!” she shouted, but the silence that followed was deafening.

“Dammit! Smash my finger betwixt a cog! Why a floating city!? ... I should’ve stayed in the mines,” she thought to herself. "What have I gotten us into? What kind of danger have my brothers and I been stewing in?”

Amelia’s fingers twitched around the locket. Crush the blue gem? The thought was both reckless and tempting. The gem’s soft glow seemed to taunt her, daring her to act. Maybe beneath this glowing facade lies the fleshy circle. I can’t deny my curiosity, she thought. But does it hold answers or just more trouble?

She scowled, knowing full well that whatever was inside the “fleshy circle” probably wasn’t anything pleasant. The name alone made her stomach churn.

Am I really supposed to crack this thing open and hope for the best? She sighed, shaking her head. "Crush the shell, but not the fleshy circle," Ehmir had said. Easier said than done. With one last glance at the gem, she lowered her hand, muttering, “What a time to be me.” Then, as if a small spark of reason broke through, she added, “Best ask Rick. He might know.” There were too many unknowns, and Amelia knew better than to play with fire—at least for now.